Ensign Cookie
by Time Lord of many names
Summary: "Ensign Cookie reporting for duty!" "Wait... what?" Elim blinked, looking at the gingerbread colonist from the snow globe that Q gave him as a winter holiday gift that seemed to be quite serious.


**Note:** Well, what if Elim Garak and Julian Bashir had a son (genetically engineered, of course), and he joined Starfleet?  
Anyway, keep in mind that I'm just having fun with my STO crew and friends.

* * *

"Ensign Cookie reporting for duty!"

"Wait... what?" Elim blinked, looking at the gingerbread colonist from the snow globe that Q gave him as a winter holiday gift that seemed to be quite serious.

The young gingerbread woman, dressed up as an officer of the tactical department, saluted him, back straight, face enthusiastic.

"Admiral Q said that you're the captain I need when carried out my transfer to your ship!" Elim stifled a desire to half-lid his eyes and produce a heavy sigh, addressed clearly to Q and his jokes. It wasn't the fault of the newly baked ensign, after all. "It has always been my greatest dream: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no gingerbread has gone before!" her voice was excited and full of hopes. "I undertook only a short internship at the command of the admiral Q himself, but—"

"I'm sorry, ensign, but there must be some kind of mistake," Elim started, trying not to look annoyed, as he truly was, to not hurt ensign Cookie's feelings. He was just about to proceed, when his first officer came in, strangling a laugh.

"Sir, I'm afraid, we have the tribbles problem again—" Jaelyn Dax stood still, eyes slowly widening, lips trembling. "And, as I can see, it isn't the only one."

"Tribbles problem? I can solve it!" ensign Cookie cried. "Sir! Give me a chance to prove you that there's no mistake!"

And before Elim had a chance to answer — she was already out on her way to the cargo bay.

* * *

"You can't be serious, can you?" Raiden asked, pouring himself another Nog's nog — to get warm after a snowball fight. Elim lifted one eyeridge and gave him a sarcastic glance. "No, really?"

"Can you remember me not being serious, Renzi?"

"Yes, can you remember the Spoonhead not being boring?" Num meddled in, appearing out of thin air. His clothes were covered with snow, face grinning joyfully.

"Hello, Big Ears," Elim answered in the same manner, taking a sip of his glogg.

Raiden looked around, as if looking for the ways for retreat. His nervousness wasn't left unnoticed, as Num's grin widened even more.

"Calm down, man, I'm here not for your dabo debts." He ordered a mug of hot chocolate and turned to Elim again. "So what's your problem with that cookie officer?" he took a gulp before going on. "Isn't it at least funny?"

Elim snorted. "I see. So ensign Enoli already reported to you."

"I have no idea of what are you talking about," Num shook his head, taking another gulp. "But you know, rumors spread fast."

"Indeed," Elim said, half-lidding his eyes.

"What are you two up to?" Isria asked cheerfully, approaching the bar. "I would like to borrow you for a pie eating competition!"

Num couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"What's going on?" Isria looked confused, turning her gaze from one to the other, meanwhile Raiden seemed to be disappeared, not trusting the assurances of the ferengi.

"It's really nothing, my dear doctor," Elim said, staring at Num. "Recently I had a problem with the one of my officers. Admiral Num thinks that it is funny."

"Oh—" Isria exclaimed, but was interrupted almost immediately.

"Did you just say you _had_ a problem?" Num grinned, finishing his chocolate. "You _have_ a problem. It is still unsolved as far as I know."

"Elim?" Isria asked in a gentle voice, comparable to a tribble purring.

Elim sighed and told her.

"So the poor girl ended up in the sickbay?" Isria was sitting now at his side, sipping glogg as well.

"At the bakery, more likely," Num giggled. He seemed to fully enjoy the situation. Isria looked at him reproachfully, but her trembling lips were betraying her.

"You too, my good doctor?" Elim asked in a cheerless tone, taking the third glass of glogg. "I never imagined how heartless you can be."

"Oh yes, she can!" Sheryl assured him, rushing in to take a couple of bottles of the romulan ale. "No matter what you were discussing, I thought, you should know," her eyes sparkled almost literally, before she rushed out.

"I'm not heartless!" Isria cried after her, wounded. "And I think that you must talk to Q, Elim. You know, he doesn't really realize that his jokes aren't innocent."

"Or just do nothing, and the problem will solve itself," Num said, shrugging his shoulders. "Your gingerbread girl acts as a person only because of the Q powers."

"He has a point," Isria replied. "Sooner or later his winter magic will come to an end, and your ensign Cookie will turn into a... cookie," she chuckled.

"And when Q is bored with his everlasting winter holiday party, you could eat her quite literally," Num finalized, smile expressive.

"How long it has been that I haven't told you that you are disgusting?" Elim asked him rhetorically, rising to his feet.

"I will take it as a compliment!" Num shouted after him. It seemed that he had something to discuss with Enoli. He grinned one more time, took his snowgun and headed to the frozen lake, where the klingon fishing was just announced.

* * *

"You are boring, aren't you?" Q said, making a face.

"Tribbles ate her hand, do you realize it, Q?" Elim's voice was cold and grim. "It doesn't look like a joke at all!" he rose his eyeridges disapprovingly. "She had so much pain and fear in her eyes that we had to think fast about the possible cure... that clearly was far away from the medicine as we used to know it."

Q beamed with joy. "You see! I was right when telling her that you _are_ the captain she needs! So caring! So mindful!"

"Q!" Elim growled. "You have to tell her the truth! That she is not a Starfleet officer and that she could never become one!"

"But... why?" a sad voice came, and Elim turned around to see ensign Cookie's face, full of sorrow. Q looked at him smugly. "I thought, Starfleet is open to all the species, I thought, the Federation is about exploring the Universe and making friends!"

"It is," Elim sighed, "but—"

"But not for me!" she cried. "Is it what you gonna say?"

"No, I—"

"He was gonna say that you're not good enough for him," Q said coldly. "You know these captains."

"What? No!" Elim flared up.

"Admit it, admiral," Q proceeded. "Your Starfleet pride isn't as stainless as you try to pretend. I remember—"

"The point is that the whole of this place and everything in there is created by Q," Elim interrupted him, looking at the ensign Cookie, his eyes sad and tired. "You are alive because he wants you to, but at the very moment he stops this game, you'll turn into a lifeless item again," the rush of these words produced almost crushing effect. Elim never imagined that a gingerbread could pale. "I'm sorry."

"No, you are not!" Q cried. "Why else should you tell her this?"

"Is it true?" ensign Cookies asked, staring at Q. "Am I only a wry joke?"

"I'm sorry," Elim repeated, feeling uncomfortable. "I just don't want you being eaten by tribbles. Or someone else." He glared at Q that looked displeased. "You are not a god, Q. Not even a Blue Fairy."

"Am I not?" Q asked, snapping his fingers again. Elim turned back to the ensign Cookie that was changing slowly, from her feet to head, turning into a human. "Making her a real girl and stuff," Q added, snorting. "And remember," he pointed his finger at her, "you won't be able to turn back home, because you're no more gingerbread from my fairytale, but a human from the boring reality. Enjoy yourselves!" And Q disappeared.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, captain!" ensign Cookie cried and embraced Elim, putting a kiss on his cheek. "If it weren't you, my dream would never come true!"

Elim blinked, seeing her running away to the transporter point. He brushed his cheek and smelled his fingers — for no obvious reason. They smelled gingerbread.

"Well, I still think, Num's point was better," Sheryl said, appearing beside him. "But if you ran out of ensigns..." she didn't finish her thought, grinned and walked away.

Elim sighed. The cookie problem was finally solved. In a way.

And the snow globe that waited for him in his quarters was empty.

For evermore.


End file.
